Exposed
Whoa, run that song back get
Exposed, teach these youngins how to act better
Know, spitting so hot your shit
Cold, better step yo ass back for I
Blow this cap, fuck you and yo strap, take you out back, in a body bag
I'ma bad sign like a black cat, with a mirror smashed, in a ladder gap
Give yo ass a rash, when I step passed, it be so fast, leave you in the past
Who taught y'all to rap, that shit garbage give me my money back
Y'all want to test me, y'all cant contest me
Stay off the liquor just stick to the Pepsi
You must be a joke because that shit was so funny
You crashing on tracks so you must be a dummy
I really am lovely just go ask my mommy
I'm having a tantrum and she can come calm me
Unless its too late and in that case I'm sorry
Put a hole in you and do it just for the glory
Glory, my ass gone end up on Maury
Bet that my ex gone call, phone rang 2 in the morning
Listen to your songs, that's when I get to snoring
For gods sake put a verse in, all you got is a chorus
Normally I'm all peace and love, but this kind of night get the piece involved
The peace is my heat like the oven on, smack your bitch in the front lawn
I ain't give two fucks if the camera on, banging in the back of an abandon car
Hit it too hard like I'm Barry Bonds, pay your sluts got a groupon
Please don't get upset I still got like 3 minutes left
I just wanna have some fun and break up on your necks
Spitting all words and I still ain't broke a sweat
You think that you are blessed well that I'm possessed
Whoa, run that song back get
Exposed, teach these youngins how to act better
Know, spitting so hot your shit
Cold, better step yo ass back for I
Go nuts go crazy
Triple 4's a slot machine that's word to, Jay-Z
Bartender bring some more drinks, she ain't ask for my Id
She did ask for my Ig
Saw the way the her eyes gleam I do this shit for a hobby
Rapping is easy when you just be rapping that bullshit
Don't call yourself the greatest if you just got club hits
I'd rather be me and broke, than be you and rich
Trying to make it in this game I got some advice
You should quit
Hit my line when I blow up, go talk about how I glo'd up
Need something ask now, before y'all want a photo
Bitch if you gave no love, then you ain't invited to the show cause
I take my beef to the heart, that's what I call a cold cut
Shut the fuck up, you ain't running shit, go sit down little bitch
Bumping this, at the funeral, jamming with your friends
Its obvious, the audience, be fucking with the kid
I bodied this, you will repent, on all the words you though you spit
I'm sorry Matty, I didn't mean anything bad
I've not been talking shit, well not to your face just to your back
Maybe you should just relax, no point in getting all mad
Your mean words make me feel like I cant even rap
Whoa, run that song back get
Exposed, teach these youngins how to act better
Know, spitting so hot your shit
Cold, better step yo ass back for I
Stow the heat in between the seat
Fuck that blow the heat like a sweet release
Pressure value, you could probably see the steam coming out of me
Leave it on the beat
Fuck a fee do this job for free, visit yo spot like monopoly
Hit her on the plane going to Germany
Pilots getting sick of hearing bout me
Listen up listen the words I've been spitting the words
I've been killing this shit is so viscous
I'll put you on lists and I'll check it like Christmas
These bitches don't know what the fuck is my mission
Don't cross me like Christian don't push me like pistons
I promise to get you whack just for bitching
I been up in kitchens, I love how they whip it
I love when I get in them guts and I kill it, I kill it
Kill it, cook it up in a skillet
Hit her while she in her feelings, you ain't know she got a mistress
Take her back she got issues, I'm sure she ain't miss you
She belong to the streets, so think about that when she kiss you
In reality, I don't give two shits made the song just to see if it hit
Relax I ain't fuck on yo bitch, No cap though she ugly as shit
I'm just joking again, give you a pad for the pen
Don't get in my car, I don't want blood in the Benz
Get it, you on your period
Pussy ass boy he ain't hearing it
Exposed, teach these youngins how to act better
Know, spitting so hot your shit
Cold, better step yo ass back for I
Blow this cap, fuck you and yo strap, take you out back, in a body bag
I'ma bad sign like a black cat, with a mirror smashed, in a ladder gap
Give yo ass a rash, when I step passed, it be so fast, leave you in the past
Who taught y'all to rap, that shit garbage give me my money back
Y'all want to test me, y'all cant contest me
Stay off the liquor just stick to the Pepsi
You must be a joke because that shit was so funny
You crashing on tracks so you must be a dummy
I really am lovely just go ask my mommy
I'm having a tantrum and she can come calm me
Unless its too late and in that case I'm sorry
Put a hole in you and do it just for the glory
Glory, my ass gone end up on Maury
Bet that my ex gone call, phone rang 2 in the morning
Listen to your songs, that's when I get to snoring
For gods sake put a verse in, all you got is a chorus
Normally I'm all peace and love, but this kind of night get the piece involved
The peace is my heat like the oven on, smack your bitch in the front lawn
I ain't give two fucks if the camera on, banging in the back of an abandon car
Hit it too hard like I'm Barry Bonds, pay your sluts got a groupon
Please don't get upset I still got like 3 minutes left
I just wanna have some fun and break up on your necks
Spitting all words and I still ain't broke a sweat
You think that you are blessed well that I'm possessed
Whoa, run that song back get
Exposed, teach these youngins how to act better
Know, spitting so hot your shit
Cold, better step yo ass back for I
Go nuts go crazy
Triple 4's a slot machine that's word to, Jay-Z
Bartender bring some more drinks, she ain't ask for my Id
She did ask for my Ig
Saw the way the her eyes gleam I do this shit for a hobby
Rapping is easy when you just be rapping that bullshit
Don't call yourself the greatest if you just got club hits
I'd rather be me and broke, than be you and rich
Trying to make it in this game I got some advice
You should quit
Hit my line when I blow up, go talk about how I glo'd up
Need something ask now, before y'all want a photo
Bitch if you gave no love, then you ain't invited to the show cause
I take my beef to the heart, that's what I call a cold cut
Shut the fuck up, you ain't running shit, go sit down little bitch
Bumping this, at the funeral, jamming with your friends
Its obvious, the audience, be fucking with the kid
I bodied this, you will repent, on all the words you though you spit
I'm sorry Matty, I didn't mean anything bad
I've not been talking shit, well not to your face just to your back
Maybe you should just relax, no point in getting all mad
Your mean words make me feel like I cant even rap
Whoa, run that song back get
Exposed, teach these youngins how to act better
Know, spitting so hot your shit
Cold, better step yo ass back for I
Stow the heat in between the seat
Fuck that blow the heat like a sweet release
Pressure value, you could probably see the steam coming out of me
Leave it on the beat
Fuck a fee do this job for free, visit yo spot like monopoly
Hit her on the plane going to Germany
Pilots getting sick of hearing bout me
Listen up listen the words I've been spitting the words
I've been killing this shit is so viscous
I'll put you on lists and I'll check it like Christmas
These bitches don't know what the fuck is my mission
Don't cross me like Christian don't push me like pistons
I promise to get you whack just for bitching
I been up in kitchens, I love how they whip it
I love when I get in them guts and I kill it, I kill it
Kill it, cook it up in a skillet
Hit her while she in her feelings, you ain't know she got a mistress
Take her back she got issues, I'm sure she ain't miss you
She belong to the streets, so think about that when she kiss you
In reality, I don't give two shits made the song just to see if it hit
Relax I ain't fuck on yo bitch, No cap though she ugly as shit
I'm just joking again, give you a pad for the pen
Don't get in my car, I don't want blood in the Benz
Get it, you on your period
Pussy ass boy he ain't hearing it
Credits
Writer(s): Henry Nicola Mancini
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
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